To see you again | Rafe Cameron
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x ReaderGenre: FluffWarnings: Alluding to hard substances slightlyWords: 2.7kAN: If you guys enjoy this, let me know if you want a second part
Life had a funny way of reminding you of your place in the world, in society. A simple look into your fridge, your closet, your circle of friends and even merely the side of the island you lived on.
Granted, you felt rich in other ways that didn't incorporate the monetary value of your house. Rather than what filled the empty spaces within your tiny house, who occupied the area was much more important. In your opinion, anyway.
A small family like yours was sufficient enough. A loving mother, a hard-working father, and your high-spirited younger sister was all you ever needed in life.
But you couldn't help but feel despondent. Nothing of which could be a product of your parent's efforts of raising your family on the cut. Your parents were diligent and worked hard for the things they had, and you remained forever grateful for the life they provided you.
But life on the cut was never easy, your family worked harder just to earn barely a quarter of the earnings that a kook family made in a day. It was impossible to believe that such wealth could be acquired by people living within the same island as you. Yet it was hard to ignore, as constant reminders of your differences engulfed you.
Women carrying small designer bags that could feed your family a months worth of meals. Men and their incredibly lavish and costly hobbies that could put both you and your sister into college. Teenagers at your school discussing vacation plans with each other that only you could dream of.
Life was never equal, and at times you wondered if this had something to do with people's past lives. The type of person you were in your past life determined your social class. This only continued to fuel your jealousy. Pondering on the unfairness of it all.
Your parents were kind-hearted people, and upon entering their home, a warmth would instantly envelope you. An instant blanket of safety. That's often how you felt when you were at home, and you were sure your parent's friends who'd make frequent visits felt the same. They deserved better than the cards they were dealt with.
"Woah," you heard a low voice say. You begin to panic, the hairs on your neck straighten. A heavy pair of shoes shuffled through the dusty concrete flooring, and you could feel your heart beat against your chest.
Nobody in their right mind would ever step foot in this abandoned building, let alone be anywhere near this part of town. After failed attempts at creating civilisation in this area, many protesters objected against the establishment of new entertainment venues and houses. The government and those wealthy businessmen gave up on their plans and built elsewhere. What remained was half built establishments surrounded by beautiful greenery that the community fought hard to protect. If anything, the construction were really just slabs of concrete put together to create a box with enough structure that you felt secure enough to claim it as your undisclosed hideout.
But now, somebody else had intruded in on your personal space.
"f*ck, this place is creepy," the deep voice echoed through the walls, only a man could have such a masculine tone. A chill ran down your spine, you wouldn't classify yourself as a weak person, but against a man. Protecting yourself may take more effort.
You pressed yourself against the icy concrete wall and held your breath. You fixed your gaze across the room towards the stairs, your only escape route, but also the direction of where the man was heading up. You looked back at the square hole beside you, what was meant to be a window, became your lookout point. Where you'd sit and dwell on your shortcomings.
You contemplated jumping down, but thought against it having observed just how far down the ground would be. If you were lucky you'd sprain your ankle, but if anything, a trip to the hospital would be the more likely outcome.
"sh*t," the man grumbled as you heard a thump, returning your gaze back to the stairs. You could only hear one pair of shoes, which gave you some sort of relief, but not enough. You could still feel the beating of your heart, hammering against your chest. Your mind running through all the possible outcomes of who may be the mystery man, and what he could possibly be doing here.
Then you caught a glimpse of light hair, but it was hard to tell. The reflection of the moon casting through the open window was not enough to illuminate your surroundings. You were thankful that his back was towards you, giving you time to arrange your escape route. Although nothing sprung to mind, but a million other possibilities of the worst case scenarios replayed in your head. Your fight or flight response really failing you at a time like this one.
After a few unstable steps, more of the mysterious man's figure was revealed. In addition to the grey polo and light coloured khaki shorts that the man wore, the polo laid over muscular shoulders. The movement of his back muscles highlighted by the moons reflection.
It was evident that if you had made an effort to defend yourself against him, there would really only be one possible aftermath. It definitely was not looking to be in your favour.
You slid over to your right, utilising the shadow to shield your body from his view once he eventually decided to look in your direction.
Your palms begun to sweat and you sensed an unsettling feeling break out all over your bones. Deep inside your nerves, the chills running through your body, beginning in your chest, and circling throughout your legs and your head. Your legs felt fragile, almost as if you had just performed a wall sit for an hour and now your legs were barely functioning.
A ringing broke out, bouncing off the walls and the man whipped his head towards your direction. You were grateful of the shadow that guarded you from his view, but the light illuminating from your cellular device disclosed your hide out. You internally cuss out whoever made phones, for ever inventing such dreadful devices that could ultimately be the cause of your death. You switched off your phone.
"Who's that?" The man's voice echoed throughout the room as he took careful yet clumsy steps towards you. His face had become much clearer as he drew nearer to the window and you could finally connect the voice to the face. It was Rafe Cameron. Which accomplished nothing in reducing the rate at which your heart beat.
"I'm not stupid, I know you're there," despite the deepness and intensity of his voice, you could discern a touch of lightness, almost a cheerful note in the way he spoke. Quite unlike the usual Rafe that paraded the town with his head held high, like nothing could ever touch him.
It clicked in your head that Rafe may not be all that sober. Unmistakably, it was ten o'clock on a Friday night and the majority of Kildare's youth liked to spend this time intoxicated at the beach.
"Are we playing hide and seek?" Rafe chuckled, he was now five metres away. "Don't jump at me, yeah? Just come out and show your face man."
Undeniably, the shadow hid you so well that Rafe was unable to distinguish your gender. But as quick as a wink, a large rough hand wrapped itself around your elbow. You felt yourself being dragged away from the comfort of the shadow.
"Woah," Rafe voiced, low and gravely, "you're not a dude."
You recognised the look of surprise on his features. It was your first time being up close to Rafe, and you yourself were startled at the beauty of it.
Speaking in terms of structure, skin texture and overall fit of his features. This man was attractive both from a distance and up close.
But it didn't change the fact that he had just pulled you rather roughly by the arm.
"What's your name?" he questioned, an observant and curious expression passed his features. You registered your silence, realising that you had not spoken a word in the past 2 hours in this place. You struggled to find your voice.
Undoubtedly, Rafe was a good looking person. But it was also a universal truth that he was quite the malicious person. Overhearing stories of him harassing pogues. Or anyone for that matter, as long as he deemed them to be less than him. Your panic was not vanishing any time soon.
"You a mute?"
You shook your head.
"Okay," he dragged out the word, which was intended to demonstrate the awkwardness of your silence, but coming from Rafe it did the opposite. Rafe was the type of person to, at all times, channel confidence - radiating an aura of sureness and might - and as mentioned earlier, like nothing could ever touch him.
"What are you doing in this creepy ass building anyway? You summoning rituals or something?" He joked, glancing around your surroundings. You'd always found the place rather comforting, but in the presence of a stranger, you begun to notice just how creepy it looked, especially at this time of the night.
"Do I look like a witch to you?" You finally found your voice, buried deep down in your nervousness - it came out rather croaky.
Rafe looked down at you, the height difference becoming more obvious now that he had noticed. "So she speaks," he mocked, "and I don't know. You're a girl, aren't all girls into that stars, and witchery stuff?"
"Horoscopes?" you questioned, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Yeah, the witchery stuff."
"No, I'm not a witch, although I would never mock a woman for believing in what she believes in," you watched Rafe smirk at your response, as he stepped away from you and headed to the window on your left. He leaned his hands against the dusty window seal and angled his head out, seemingly taking in the night air.
With his eyes closed, you admired his beauty shamelessly. It was no surprise that Rafe was a good looking man, but to see him up close and to have the chance to observe him at such a peaceful atmosphere - it was an entirely separate kind of attraction. The night light highlighted his facial features at just the right angles, casting shadows over his profile and creating strong contrasts. You were embarrassed to find yourself unable to look away - that is until he snapped out of the trance and turned his head back to look at you.
"So you're one of those feminists then?" he quizzed with a slight up turn of his lips.
"Elaborate on those feminists"
"You know," Rafe rotated his body so that he was facing you and rested himself against the ledge and propped his head to the side against the window, "the hate all men type of feminist."
"If that's your interpretation of a feminist then I suggest you do some more reading on it. I don't hate all men, I quite like my dad actually, but a lot of men are the root of many world problems."
Rafe looked amused, causing you to recoil and internally slap yourself for speaking too much about something he probably didn't care about. But he did ask, so technically, that was on him - you thought.
"You know, I'm six beers down, and f*ck knows how many shots of tequila, so I really don't know what you're saying," and probably on other substances you thought to yourself.
"I figured," you placed your hands into the pockets of your jacket as they begun to feel numb from the coldness of the air, "what are you doing here?"
"Playing hide and seek, but I think my hiding spot is a little too good," Rafe chuckled, taking a quick scan at the surroundings behind him before he rested his eyes back to you. Almost as if he had been scanning your entire body, you could feel the intensity of his eyes.
His words had you smile, "yeah, nobody's going to find you here, I'm surprised you even made it out here actually."
"Well, what are you doing here, if you're not a witch?" he questioned once again.
You shrugged your shoulders, "I come here often, it's quite relaxing."
"This place looks like something off a horror movie, it's literally an abandoned building, the opposite of what I would call relaxing."
"Well, it was relaxing until you got here."
Rafe raised an eyebrow in amusem*nt, "oh so am I interrupting your little solo date or something? It's Friday night, shouldn't you be at the boneyard like everybody else?"
You weren't lonely, you knew that, you were always surrounded by somebody if you really felt it necessary. But the notion of sweaty, drunk teenagers at the beach and waking up with sand and god knows what all over your body was not your idea of a fun night.
In fact, you had never been to a gathering at the boneyard, several of your friends who had joined in on occasion had no real good memory to share to the group - logically, it never appealed to your liking.
"Believe it or not, not all teenagers go to those things,"
"So, you're telling me, instead of being with people, you prefer being alone in this creepy building?"
"Is there something wrong with that?"
"I mean, it's not really helping your case, you sound more like a witch the more I get to know you."
You smiled in amusem*nt. Rafe could not help but feel captivated by the gentleness of it. He could feel a sense of calmness enter his body, declaring to himself that alcohol had a likely part in the way he had been feeling. But your smile felt genuine, the first genuine one he had seen in a while - with his life filled to the brim with artificiality this was refreshing.
"Trust me, I'm not a witch. Anyways, I'm gonna head out, it's pretty late," you checked the time on your phone and noticed the caller from earlier had been just an alarm to remind you to go home. There had been instances in which time flew by while you kept yourself preoccupied in this building - drawing, reading, thinking - anything that kept your mind busy. Therefore, alarms became necessary.
"What's your name?" Rafe rushed out.
"[Fake/Name,]" you lied. Not entirely sure as to why you felt the urge to think of the first name in your head, but you knew that this would ultimately be your first and only interaction with Rafe, and he would either forget this had happened or you would never cross paths.
Rafe watched you walk away - despite the physicality of walking away, you never truly left him. On a random Tuesday afternoon, the smile you wore entered into his brain. At night, just as he's about to sleep, a replay of the events would play in his mind. In the mornings, at the breakfast bar with his siblings and the conversation of their horoscopes would transpire, his thoughts filled with your face.
He was fascinated by you, Rafe thought how weird it was for a girl to like being alone - particularly in such a creepy building. But despite your short conversation, he envied your authenticity, the way in which you were unapologetically you.
He wanted to see you again, to open up some more doors in the life of this strange girl. He wanted to really get to know you.
And the only way was to go back to the abandoned building - because two weeks go by and not once had he been able to cross your path even when he tried to look. A part of Rafe believed that he might have been going mad. Conjuring up a fake scenario in his head that never truly happened, most likely the consequences of the hard substances he'd incorporated in his life. But deep down, he felt it. The realness of it all. You had to be out there somewhere.
He wished for it.
